Kiss With A Fist
by DirtyWings
Summary: The Joker is reunited with the only person he ever cared about. Rating will change when I add more chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Hi everyone! FF glitched and my chapter didn't post at first. But I think I fixed it, and I found out thanks toPirateweasel. Anyway, I've had the idea for this fic for a few years but I'm finally writing it out. Let me know if you like it!

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><p>I'm a man with an odd sense of humor.<br>I laugh at the misfortunes of others, and I cackle at their pain. The corners of my mouth turn up when something bad happens to someone else. Everyone has something that makes them happy, well mine is when other people are not happy.

I dislike when people refer to me as the "freak." Yet I know that I am one. But I've had that name my whole life, and nearly everyone I've ever met - even my own family - has called me it.

Except her.

I was never a freak in her eyes. I don't know what I was to her, maybe just a friend, maybe a fool she was only nice to because she felt sorry. I really don't know. But I know what she was to me. She's one of the only memories that I don't push away. I do that a lot. I push the memories away and forget them on purpose. Even if I tried to forget the memories she gave me, I couldn't. I simply could not.

Why do I care so much about her? I don't care about anything. I don't care about anyone. I don't care about who I hurt or what I destroy. I don't care. Why should I? No one cares about me, so I have no reason to care about them.

She cared. I don't know if she does anymore, but she did. Her family did too. I wonder how they're doing. I wonder how she got here, in Arkham, the literal hell on earth. She was so sweet and innocent when I knew her.

And just by coincidence, she's trapped in the room right next to mine. She hasn't made a single noise since they locked her in there. I would know because I've been sitting next to the sink in my room, where there's a small 2 inch hole where the pipe goes through the cement. I've only peeked to look at her a few times, and she only caught my eye once.

She looks so different now. Of course she would, because she's an adult now. She cut off her long, black hair and now it hangs just above her shoulders. She doesn't have bangs anymore either, they're grown out and sometimes it covers half her face. And she's not wearing glasses. Besides wanting to know how she got in here and all the way on the west side of Washington, I'd also like to know what happened to her glasses. She was almost completely blind last time I checked.

All she does is sit on her bed with her legs curled up to her chest, her head resting on her knees. If this ridiculously unkempt asylum wasn't so fucking loud from the screaming and moaning of the other inmates, I would be able to hear her breathe, because that's the only sound she has made since they threw her in that cell.

I've been here for 4 months now. The henchies are working on a plan to get me out, but since they're complete idiots, it's taking a while.

My mind is swarming with questions. Every one of them repeats in my head, because I'm dying to know why my long lost friend is in the cell next to mine.

I take another look through the peephole, and she isn't there anymore. I can't see her, she must have moved. But I didn't hear the loud noise of her door being opened (which I can hear clearly when it happens because it's right next to my room). My stomach is doing that thing that happens when I'm nervous. Some people call it butterflies I believe, but I don't get butterflies. That's nonsense.

I wait a few minutes, peek a few more times, and finally she's back at her bed, sitting on the edge of it and staring at the floor. I'm hesitant to get her attention, but I force myself to.

"Excuse me, pretty thing... Come here for a moment?"

She looks up, confused and surprised that she heard my voice. I'm looking at her through my hole in the wall, and she's looking back at me. First time we've made eye contact, and her eyes are bloodshot and sad. Something in my heart is uncomfortable with the fact that she looks to be in so much pain. But I hardly notice my heartstring being tugged, because I've trained myself to simply not give a fuck.

She stares at me for a moment before slowly walking over and sitting beside the sink with her back to the wall, like I am. Now I'm not sure what to say. But I figure out my words in time.

"Do you know who I am?" I ask.

It takes her a moment to respond, but she does and in her voice you can tell she is tired and stressed. "Yes... You're the Joker."

Now I'm confused. Why did she say the name that this city knows me by and not the name that she knew me by when we were children? Did she see my face? Of course she did. This peephole is small but she could still see me.

"What else am I?" I ask.

"Well... You're really the most successful criminal in Gotham."

Her response brings a smile to my face. A genuine smile. No one can do that, but she was always the one who could.

"How did a pretty thing like you get stuck here in Arkham? I've seen you on TV a few times. Robbing banks, shooting the college kids at Gotham U... Surely if what I've heard about your intelligence level is true, you would know how to not get caught and thrown in here."

She's smart. She was always smart. Smarter than me even, and I don't believe anyone could be smarter than me, except maybe her. Yet now that I think about it, I'm in here too, so even the smartest criminals get stuck in here sometimes. The Gotham Police Department is shittest PD in the world but every so often, they do catch us.

"It was a bad day." Was all she said.

I nodded even though she couldn't see. Then I heard shuffling and footsteps. When I look through the hole, she's back in her bed, laying curled up on her side with her back to me.

I yawn. It must be getting late. They don't tell us the time at this stupid facility, but I usually get tired around midnight, so it's probably time for bed. I stand and trudge to my bed, lying down on it on my back. I stare at the ceiling.

I don't think she remembers me. But I can't blame her, because I don't remember most things. The only reason I remember her, is because she was so important to me. If I'm really being honest with myself, she's still important to me. When I saw her on TV the first time, I was so surprised. At first I thought she may have followed me and moved to Gotham because of me, but that couldn't have been true. There's no way she could have figured out that I came here.

Maybe it's fate that she found me 20 years later. I don't know, how could this be fate if she doesn't even recognize me?

Then I get a great idea.

All my questions will be answered soon enough.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Just thought I would give you guys a heads up that my version of Gotham is a bit different from the canon version. If you're enjoying so far, leave a review and let me know? :) Thanks. Also, I'm sorry if this chapter isn't very good. I'm not good at writing action scenes but I felt like I needed to, and I wrote it over the holidays and that's always a hard time for me mentally..

I thought I was being careful. I thought I wouldn't get caught.

But now I'm stuck in this place, in a cold, damp and dark room. Phoenix doesn't know I'm here, so she can't break me out. It could be forever before I get out of here.

I try my best to get comfortable in this bed that feels like cardboard, with a pillow made with paper stuffing and a scratchy blanket. I haven't spoken to anyone in 3 days and no one has spoken to me.

Except _him_.

I heard about him when I first moved to this city. He's quite famous in Gotham, and while they call Bruce Wayne the Prince of Gotham, they call him the Prince of Crime. I'll have to admit, he was a bit scary to me at first. Now that I'm on his level, he's not anymore.

Why did he ask me if I knew who he was? Of course I know. Everyone knows him.

There are very few things I miss about Fayetteville, North Carolina - my hometown. I don't miss the people there who treated my family like we were shit. I don't miss the schools and colleges I had to attend, where everyone stepped on me like I was nothing. I don't miss feeling like I don't belong. But I miss my mom, and my dad and Charlotte and Lyra and the twins. I miss Brendon. I miss my aunt. It's been so long since I've heard their voices or seen their faces.

Sometimes I tell myself that I didn't _have _to cut off all communications with them. But I know that's a lie. I _had_ to. I couldn't stand to be in NC anymore, I needed to go where I belonged. Across the country, all the way on the west side of Washington state, in the city of Gotham. This city is so unique, and there's no city like it. It's practically closed off from the rest of the country, and even when the worst thing possible happens, no one outside of Gotham hears about it.

This city is run by criminals. And the police force is a joke. Nearly half of them are corrupt and run by the multiple mobs that also torment this city.

As my mind wandered in thought about the city that I joined 8 years ago, I almost didn't notice the alarm go off in the hallway outside of my room.

When I sat up and looked through the large window of the cell, red lights were flashing and some of the other inmates were running around as the guards chased after them in panic. I hurried to my feet and rushed over to the door, my hands pressed against the glass as I looked out.

A minute passed, and the chaos grew worse. Shards of broken glass littered the floor. Although this has never happened before while I was 'staying' at Arkham, I knew someone must have tried to break out.

Then my suspicions were proven true when someone wearing all black ran over to the door of my cell and motioned for me to back up. I obeyed, out of fear that he was about to do something that I might possibly get hurt if I didn't listen to him. He throws a heavy-looking bag at the door and the thick glass shattered. Then he motioned for me to follow him through the door.

Now, if I had actually given some thought into my decision to follow him, I probably wouldn't have. But I really wanted to get out of that ridiculous asylum. I figured, if this guy who's breaking me out put me in a bad situation, I could probably get out of it easier than I could this asylum on my own.

I ran with him out of the main floor, past all the chaos of guards fighting to contain the inmates. We ran out of the doors and I followed him to where he led me - a large white van. The back doors open and he jumps in, and I get inside too.

When they shut the doors, I look around. There's 5 other guys in here all wearing the same thing. None of them are super skinny, and the two in the front seats are wearing clown masks.

Then I realize. These are the Joker's goons. He's the one who planned the break out.

I stay quiet the whole time during the trip as I sit in the corner of the van while hugging my knees to my chest, staring at the floor and only catching glimpses of them when they look away.

The car ride was only half an hour long, but the windows were tinted so dark in the back of the van that I couldn't see where they were driving.

When the car stopped, the doors opened and everyone got out. When my feet hit the ground, I looked around.

There was a ferris wheel not too far away, and a small roller coaster in the distance. But this place was a mess. Paint peeled from the buildings, dirt and leaves covered the cracked paved sidewalks. It was an abandoned amusement park.

I wasn't sure what to do now, so I followed the henchmen.

They walked a few feet over to a very large tent - a circus big top tent. I knew this must have been the Joker's base of operations. And I was right, because I followed the henchmen into the tent and there he was, wearing purple slacks and a blue patterned button-up shirt which was tucked into his pants. He was playing pool in the corner of the large room, and after knocking a few balls into the hole, he looked up and smiled.

He walked over to me and looked down at me, for I was a few inches shorter than him. He had full facepaint on, and it was the first time I've seen him in person like this.

"Heeello." He said in his signature tone, the tone I didn't hear when he tried to talk to me back in Arkham through the hole in the wall.

"Hi..." I said, rubbing my arm. I wasn't nervous or scared, I just didn't know what to do now. "Thank you for getting me out of Arkham. I appreciate it." I said a moment later.

"No problem, sweets. Would you like to join me for a game?" He said, gesturing to the pool table.

"Sure.." I mumbled and followed him.

He picked up his cue and chalked the tip of it with a small square of blue chalk. I nervously picked up a different cue and he threw me the cube.

"What are you going to do now that you're out of Arkham?" I asked him as he hit his first ball, breaking the triangle.

He kept his eyes on the table as the ball rolled across the green carpet, and into a hole.

I stared at him, and eventually he looked back at me. "Start scheming. I have lots of planning to do. It's your turn."

I lined up my stick, staring down the white ball as I hit it, and it hit another ball. No win. "Tell me about your plans?"

"I don't share my plans with anyone, unless they're going to work with me on them." He took his turn. "Speaking of partnerships, I think you and I would make a good team. I'm not usually the, uh, teaming-up kind of guy, but there are some things about you that could really benefit my current idea." He grasped his cue as he held it, almost like a staff.

"Yeah?" I mumbled, finally hitting a ball into the hole.

"It could be your way of repaying me for breaking you out of Arkham."

I thought about it for a moment as we continued to play the game. Was he really asking me to work with him? From what I had heard from the other criminals like Jonathan Crane and Harvey Dent, and also from the Joker himself just now, he did not usually work with other criminals. I'm surprised he even has henchmen. I imagine he probably has to hire new ones all the time cause he probably kills most of them. But then again, I probably would too if I had henchmen. They can be so senseless sometimes.

"So you want me to work with you? As your partner in crime - literally?" I wanted to clarify this.

"Yes. I've seen the schemes you've pulled off. You're a smart one, not like the other female criminals in this city. Not to mention that you could provide me with supreme weaponry." He spoke as he continued to play the game. I look down to the floor, and realize that I'm still wearing my hospital scrubs from Arkham.

Do I really want to do this? That's the question. How can I be sure that I can trust this man, one of the craziest people in the world. It seems like the idea of working with him is the craziest concept in the world. Yet something inside of me wants to. I've teamed up with other's before, and although my experiences have been somewhat bleak, I still learned a lot from them and even made a high dollar. The Joker is a mad man, and even though he says he doesn't have one, he is definitely a mad man with a plan.

"I'm interested... But I would like some more details. Like what my cut of the profit will be, and what role in the scheme you plan on giving me." I took my turn in the game and managed to get three balls into the hole, a green one, a purple one, and a blue one.

"I'll gladly share that information with you." He put his cue back on the rack on the wall behind him. "Shall we step into my office?"


End file.
